Scars
by Aquamarine07
Summary: Will and Jack get into an argument about their battle wounds, and someone surprising comes out on top! Set PostAWE about a year or so.


Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean.

A/N: A little oneshot inspired by PirateAngel1286's "Popular Words" drabble challenge on HtR. Set PostAWE about a year or so.

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow and William Turner didn't argue much, but whenever they did, it was quite an interesting sight to see.

Jack had once again dropped into the Turner household, seeking a shelter for the evening and rum (with the latter of the two requests being of greater importance). Even though the newly-reunited Turners had become accustomed to such impromptu visits, Jack had managed to shake things up a bit by his very appearance, which was usually shocking enough without the addition of a long scar running down the side of his face and arm, undoubtedly caused by the tip of a sword.

When Elizabeth had first seen this unnerving sight on her doorstep, she was torn between ushering him in and offering her condolences for his latest wound (for scars were nothing uncommon for Jack Sparrow) and reprimanding him for getting into trouble again.

However, as she and her husband were sitting around the dining room table listening to his latest tale, she was regretting not carrying through with the latter.

"I swear on pain of death that that man had bigger arms than the size of me head," Jack drawled to Will, leaning back casually in his chair. "Had me in a headlock, he did. Course I was already bleedin' with this scratch," Jack motioned toward the scar running down his face and arm, "courtesy of his coward friend who thought he'd attack me when I wasn't lookin', but it didn't matter in the end. I threw the big one over my shoulder - knocked 'im out cold - and threatened the other with my sword for nigh but a minute before I had him running away like he'd seen the godforsaken light of Davy Jones' locker, if you don't mind the saying," Jack said smugly, inclining his head towards Will, who didn't look quite impressed by this tale.

"And how did you get back to your ship, then?" Will asked carefully, eyeing Jack suspiciously.

"Made a raft all by my onesies, didn't I? The big one had a cargo box, so I ripped it apart and put it back together with a sail and all, made it to the _Pearl_ by nightfall," Jack concluded his magnificent tale, looking to Will expectantly for his awe at the story of another one of Jack's insurmountable escapes.

Instead, Will baffled the pirate by beginning to laugh. "I'm sorry Jack," Will chuckled, "But I think you're losing your touch."

"Eh? I've got the marks to prove it," he said, gesturing once again to his new scar.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Will said, still grinning. "I just can't believe that this was all too difficult for you."

Jack snorted. "Like you could've bested the two I was up against, stranded out on an island inhabited by only the worst of the rum runners and black market traders."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to laugh as she got up to clear the dinner from the table. "Really Jack, I think it's been too long since you've had a fair swordfight with Will. Perhaps your memory needs to be refreshed, but mine certainly doesn't. That would have been all too easy for him."

"Now look here-"Jack began to rebuff, but was cut off by Will.

"And honestly, that scar's naught but a flesh wound," Will scoffed. "It'll heal in a week or two. I'm sorry Jack, but that wasn't your finest chapter in the… _epic_ tale that is your life."

Jack was stunned that the two weren't impressed by his latest tale, but he assumed Will and Elizabeth had probably just tired of hearing the play-by-play of his every triumph. Instead of belaboring the point, he decided to try another direction.

"Alright then William. Do tell me what battle wounds you have encountered that have been worse than a sword digging down half the length of your body," Jack said, friendly challenge flashing in his eyes.

"Where should I start, Jack?" Will grinned again, "I've been hurt far worse than you in the past."

"Have you now?"

"I have."

"So you're saying you have more scars and wounds than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow then?"

"Indeed I am."

"You believe that you are actually tougher the old Captain, do you?

"I do."

"Would you be willing to place a bet on that?"

"Of course."

"Then by all means, do enlighten me of your extensive past sufferings."

"Men," Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes as she left to check on her newborn daughter, Grace. Only two hardcore men-of-the-sea like Jack and Will would bicker over something like battle wounds.

A few minutes later, however, as she gently rocked her beautiful sleeping daughter in her arms, the sounds of Will and Jack shouting trickled into the nursery. It seemed their innocent squabble had turned into an outright shouting match. Elizabeth could hear their yelling as clearly as if they were in the same room.

"I doubt that you've ever had five lashes, Jack, because if you did you would have already consented to my winning!"

"William, five lashes or not, _you_ haven't had the misfortune of being shot in the chest, twice, and then continuing on in battle!"

"I'm sure that was difficult and all, but there is the small matter of me being stabbed in the heart by Davy Jones!"

"I respect that, William, I really do, but does it really compare to being eaten alive by a Kraken?"

"Yes, it does!"

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

By this point, Elizabeth was quite frustrated that they were being so loud, and intended on putting Grace in her cradle and going to stop the foolishness herself…when Grace woke from her slumber and began to cry. "Shhhh," Elizabeth murmured gently, "Shh my little Grace, Mama will take care of it." Baby in hand, Elizabeth strode out of the room, heading for the dining room.

Meanwhile, Will and Jack were entirely absorbed in their argument. "Honestly, Jack, you have no idea the scars I have! I am much tougher than you. "

"And you don't have the scars that years of being the most feared pirate in the Caribbean gives you! Everyone _knows_ that I'm tougher than you!"

"The Captain of the Flying Dutchman endures years of back-breaking work and battles as well!"

"Aye, but I've still suffered more!"

"Have not!

"Have so!"

"Stow it! The both of you! That's an order, understand?!" Elizabeth roared suddenly at the pair. Both of them turned to look at Elizabeth, who had gone from mother to captain in a split second. Stunned silence hung in the air as Will and Jack slowly lowered themselves into their seats, while Elizabeth tried to comfort Grace, who was now wide awake thanks to the silly men in front of her.

Thankfully Grace calmed quickly, leaving Elizabeth to confront the two irrational men. She approached the table where they were sitting authoritatively.

"Now," she said, her voice low and commanding, "Since the two of you are insecure enough about your strength and '_manliness'"-_Elizabeth said this word with a look of disdain- "to settle this on your own, I'm going to resolve it for you." She glared at the pair of them. "You both believe you have endured the most pain, the best scars, yes? You both think you are tougher than the other?" The men nodded. "Well then, I will have to wound your masculine pride and say that _neither_ of you win."

Will and Jack gaped at Elizabeth, and both began their appeals to her decision.

"But I'm tougher-"

"The Kraken-"

"Right in the heart, Elizabeth-"

"Two bullets-"

Elizabeth held up one hand to their protests, silencing them immediately. "You really want to press me? Do you really want me to decide who's the toughest because they've had to endure the most pain?"

"Yes!" Both Jack and Will chorused in unison.

"Fine," Elizabeth said with a smirk. "I have."

After a prolonged pause, Jack began to laugh. "Really, Elizabeth, who's the winner?"

"I am," she said confidently, narrowing her eyes at Jack.

Even Will grinned. "Elizabeth, I know you've been in battle alongside us and you've had your share of scars and suffering, but honestly, I think you've been able to defend yourself from worst of the blows."

"Yes, that's true. But you two are arguing over who has had to endure the worst pain, which logically makes them the toughest, right?"

"Aye."

Elizabeth smiled. "Well then I _am_ the toughest. I've endured more pain than either of you."

Jack smirked. "Do tell, dearie."

"Two words, gentlemen," said Elizabeth. "_Natural childbirth_."

The men stared, stunned with no rebuttal. Elizabeth continued to smile at them, bouncing little Grace in her arms. "Twice. A might bit worse than any of the battle wounds I've had." Elizabeth continued to smile at them, before looking lovingly at her daughter. "And much more rewarding. So, by your definition, I'm tougher than both of you." She kissed her baby on her cheek, before smirking at the men and leaving the room with a skip in her step.

"Does that really mean she wins?" Jack asked quietly, watching Elizabeth's retreating figure.

"Mate," Will whispered, "I was with her the second time, when she gave birth to Grace."

"And?"

"She _definitely_ wins."

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A/N: The word that inspired this oneshot was "Natural Childbirth" ;) Review if you like!


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